


Mother's Day

by RazzleDazzleBerry



Category: Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Super, Dragon Ball Z
Genre: DBZ, Dragon Ball Super - Freeform, Dragon Ball Z - Freeform, F/M, Fluffy, Mother's Day, Oneshot, Planet Vegeta, dragon ball - Freeform, some small angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-24 16:46:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21341461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RazzleDazzleBerry/pseuds/RazzleDazzleBerry
Summary: Vegeta surprises Bulma with a sweet gift for their first Mother's Day as parents.
Relationships: Bulma Briefs/Vegeta, VegeBul - Relationship
Comments: 11
Kudos: 76





	Mother's Day

Vegeta sat on the railing of the balcony outside of his and Bulma’s room. Any other person would topple off the railing and plummet to their death, but Vegeta sat steady while silently looking far off into the pale blue nothingness of the morning sky, completely unaffected by the cold early morning breeze. The only sound that drew him from his solitude was the soft murmurings of Trunks stirring in his crib followed by a sharp wail. He listened for the soft footfall signaling Bulma’s rise from their bed, and awaited her to join him on the balcony with their son just as she did every morning.

“Vegeta?” Bulma poked her head through the opened sliding door and stepped onto the balcony. “You’re up earlier than usual. Everything okay?”

He gazed on the distant horizon with vacant eyes; no, everything wasn’t okay. “Everything’s fine,” he said with a more rugged voice than he intended.

Bulma settled herself onto one of the cushioned balcony chairs so she could nurse Trunks comfortably. But she heard Vegeta’s tone, the one he always used to deflect anyone paying too close attention to his inner turmoil. He was such a closed book sometimes, but Bulma was patient enough to wait for him to share when, and if he wanted to. Afterall, he valued his pride, and trying to pull anything out of him, especially something that revealed past hurts, was migraine inducing and accomplished nothing.

The young mother crooned over Trunks as he nursed and smiled as she spoke, “This is the first time I’ve been a mom on Mother’s Day.”

Vegeta’s brow twitched as he looked over his shoulder at the mother of his son. The morning sun sparkled on her rosy cheeks, one arm held Trunks close to her breast, and her free hand gently brushed his short purple bangs from his eyes. They were a sight of perfection; a young mother adoring her son, but Vegeta felt a sharp pang deep in his chest from the image and turned back to the horizon before Bulma could see the faint glitter of tears forming in the corners of his eyes. A single memory of his own mother’s hand brushing his bangs from his face filled him with a cascade of grief, rage, and longing.

“So, did you buy me anything special?” Bulma asked excitedly. Vegeta simply shook his head. “What? Why not?! It wasn’t exactly easy birthing this kiddo! He was a chunk! Do all of you Saiyans weigh so much at birth?! Gosh, Vegeta, I really wish you would’ve gotten me something. Even a candy bar would’ve been better than nothing at all. Something, anything, that says ‘thanks for birthing my son’.”

Already on edge, Vegeta turned to snap back at her loud barrage of expectations, “Woman, do you ever stop thinking about yourself?! It’s always 'give me this' or 'buy me that' ! Must you equate purchased gifts with love all the damn time?”

Bulma’s eyes grew wide and Vegeta spun away from her again, mentally cursing himself. Why did he always do this? He would snap or argue with her when what he really wanted to do was quite the opposite. His eyes fell to the ground below. Of course he had a gift for her today. Of course it wasn’t quite so meaningless as something bought from any old store.

“Love?” Bulma asked still shocked. She spoke more softly this time, “Vegeta, did I hear you correctly? You love me?”

_Of course_. He stayed silent, but the tips of his ears began to burn with a pink flustered blush. Bulma shook her head and exasperatedly whispered to herself, “Saiyans.” She adjusted her hold on Trunks and stood before crossing the balcony to place a gentle kiss on Vegeta’s temple. “Come downstairs with me. Dad always tries to make a fancy breakfast on Mother’s Day.”

Vegeta lifted his chin and looked at her confused. “Your dad can’t cook though?”

Bulma sighed. “I know. But it’s important to mom that we make a big show of how much we love his food. Come on, let’s get this over with.”

“I’ll be there in a minute.” He paused and gulped nervously. “This may be the one meal I need to mentally prepare myself for.”

Bulma chuckled. “Oh come on! Dad’s cooking is not that bad, Vegeta!”

“Yes it is.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Bulma thought back to last year’s horrific dish of scrambled eggs that were somehow burnt and raw at the exact same time. “God, I hope he’s not making eggs. Or worse—,” she gulped as yet another traumatic memory smoked across her mind, “Pancakes.”

Bulma shook the memories away. Then she reached up and teasingly jostled Vegeta’s hair causing his bangs to fall from their usual upright position. “Join us when you’re ready, but don’t take too long, alright? And maybe grab the TUMs from the medicine cabinet on your way down, too. We’re gonna need them.”

He patiently waited for her to leave to begin soaking in the rediscovered silence once he was alone. The morning breeze shifted his bangs over his eyes, but he made no move to brush them away. Instead he thought back to a time when he trained rigorously with his father while his mother looked on approvingly. Before each training session she would fuss over the fact that his fringe would obscure some of his vision and cause his aim to be less than perfection. As a solution, she would remove a red jeweled barrette from her own hair to pin back his bangs. At the end of each session, Vegeta’s father would take the barrette and lovingly pin it back into his mate’s hair. It was no secret his father had given her that particular barrette when they found out they were expecting Vegeta.

A handful of minutes passed before Vegeta finally made his way downstairs, TUMs in tow. Black smoke billowed from beneath the kitchen door into the living room where Panchy and Bulma stood expectantly while waiting for Dr. Briefs to inform them breakfast was served. Clouds of smoke stung their eyes and bit their noses, but Bulma and Panchy seemed to be excited for the flaming disaster. The only person not ecstatic about the smokey stench was Trunks. He flailed in Bulma’s arms as she cheered her father on.

“Dad, whatever you’re cooking sure smells good!” Vegeta felt his gut drop like a rock— much like the rock he would be forced to consume any minute now— at her outright lie.

He made his way to Bulma’s side, in no hurry to eat any time soon. “Why are we encouraging this? I’d rather swallow a space slug than eat anything that comes out of that kitchen.”

Rolling her eyes, Bulma said, “My dad makes a big deal over Mother’s Day every year. His gifts aren’t all winners, but the effort he puts into them is real. Yes, this is going to be the worst meal of the year by far, but this is just his way of showing how much he loves my mom and it would be a shame to ignore that because of a little inedible food.”

“Still... why does it have to be food? Doesn’t he know there are two hungry Saiyans in this house?”

Bulma giggled and kissed Trunks’ forehead. “You two are just going to have to deal with it, aren’t you? Besides,” her blue eyes twinkled when she returned her attention to Vegeta, “It’s always tradition to go out for breakfast tacos once dad admits he botched everything. You can order as many as you’d like!”

What little clean air Vegeta had left in his lungs escaped him when Bulma looked at him with that smile in her eyes. He felt the blood rushing to his face for the second time that morning. His only saving grace occurred when Dr. Brief’s threw open the kitchen door with a giant smile on his face, and scorch marks all over his lab coat.

“Panchy, you won’t believe it! I burned breakfast again. I honestly don’t believe we can even attempt trying any of it.” Dr Brief’s threw his hands in the air as if to say he didn’t know how it happened.

Bulma’s mother giggled. “Oh, that’s alright, honey. There’s always next year!”

Vegeta’s stomach rumbled loud enough for everyone to hear at that moment. Dr. Briefs quickly grabbed a vehicle capsule and gestured to the front door. “I suppose that means it’s time for tacos.”

Once at the restaurant, they ate together in silence while Vegeta consumed more than a few dozen tacos without taking a single breath between bites. When he finished, Panchy propped her elbows on the table and rested her chin in her hands. “So, Vegeta, did you celebrate Mother’s Day on your planet? What did your father do to celebrate your mother?”

Vegeta swallowed down his coffee, loathing the notion of discussing his parents so nonchalantly. “He let her win.”

“Win? At what?”

“Fighting.”

* * *

The remainder of the day passed in a blur. Dr. Briefs showered Panchy with one gift after another. Flowers, balloons, floral cards, a spa gift certificate, etc. At the end of it all, Bulma, Vegeta, and Trunks excused themselves for the night. Bulma laid Trunks to sleep in his crib, then joined Vegeta on the balcony where he had taken to laying on the patio couch on clear nights to stare at the stars. She laid with him, his arms wrapped tightly around her.

“I’m sorry about my mom. She doesn’t know that your mom—”

Vegeta interrupted, “Don’t concern yourself with it. It’s fine.”

Bulma traced over Vegeta’s muscular shoulder with the tips of her fingers._ Except that it’s not fine. Vegeta’s mom was killed during the destruction of his home. She must’ve been on his mind all day. No wonder he’s been more distant than usual_, she thought. _I bet he really misses her_.

One of Vegeta’s arms lifted from Bulma’s waist, and he reached into his pocket to pull out a small box. “Your Mother’s Day gift.”

“But you said you didn’t get me anything!” Bulma sat up to receive her first ever Mother’s Day gift.

“I said I didn’t _buy_ you anything.”

“Well, geez, thanks for being specific. Wait— does that mean you stole it?”

Vegeta sat up as well and tipped his head to the side. “Do you want it or not?”

She snatched the box from his hand and exclaimed, “Duh, I want it!” The lid popped off the box easily enough, she looked inside and carefully lifted out what looked like an antique barrette adorned with rubies. “Oh, Vegeta…. It’s beautiful. Where on Earth did you get this?”

The Saiyan shook his head. “It’s not from Earth. It was my mother’s. My father gave it to her. Red is the color of the royal family. My mother had pinned my bangs back just before Frieza….”

Vegeta’s voice faltered as a growing lump tightened in his throat, but Bulma understood. He was wearing it when Frieza took him. He had it with him when Frieza killed Vegeta’s mother, and he had been powerless to stop her unnecessary death. Bulma held the barrette out to Vegeta. “Help me put it on?”

With calm hands, Vegeta tucked a strand of Bulma’s hair behind her ear, then fastened it in place with the jeweled barrette. Red complimented her turquoise hair in a stunning contrast leaving him in awe. His fingertips ghosted over her jawline until her chin came to rest between the pad of his thumb and his pointer finger. He gently lifted her chin to bring her lips to his and sweetly kissed her pink lips.

When their kiss ended, Vegeta whispered, “Happy Mother’s Day, Bulma.”


End file.
